


Smoke and Mirrors

by ofwordsandwings



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, His Last Vow, M/M, Pre and Post Reichenbach, Reichenbach Falls, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwordsandwings/pseuds/ofwordsandwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...I'm offering Sherlock an ultimatum. Either he kills himself, or I kill his friends. </p><p>He's already going to be in a panic. </p><p>Kill his only aid on the list, the only man that can call all my boys off, and you have a terrified little detective with a heart..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Mirrors

The entire scene had to be planned right down to the point. There was no room for delay, mistakes, or any wasted time.

"No,  _here_!" Sebastian felt the smaller man's hands grasp onto his shirt collar to pull him forward, making him face the other, staring him down right in the face. They had been at it for hours, rehearsing the damn thing over and over again. He knew it was important. He knew  _this_  was important, but it didn't mean he had to enjoy sitting out here in the cold for five hours.

"Blanks still won't work, Jim," Sebastian sighed, rubbing his hand into his eyes before he ran his fingers right through his hair. "What if the bloody metal breaks off, eh? Shreds off, cuts your entire  _fucking_  mouth."

Sebastian took a deep breath before he looked back at Jim, staring right back into those blank eyes. Sometimes felt like he might as well be staring into a vortex; so often, there was really very little there to stare back at him, anyway. Then again, there were the hints of emotion where Sebastian could have sworn he had seen life. They were most often ‘blink and you miss them’ moments. When Sebastian his eyes, he wasn’t always greeted with the cold, hollow eyes that so many other people saw. Sometimes there was warmth. Maybe even something loving. Not that he ever let Jim think he saw that. Hell. He would have died before he would’ve even managed to get the words out.

"When did I ever say I was going to use  _blanks_ to shoot myself in the face? Don't be stupid." Jim snatched the gun and immediately fired it at Sebastian, but the man barely flinched. The gun let off a spark and the crack echoed throughout the city. It was a chain reaction that caused some cars to slam on their breaks, looking around frantically. Sebastian and Jim were the only ones who seemed unaware of their own disruption of the world below. A wicked smile came over Sebastian and he couldn't help but shake his head as he snatched the gun back up and placed it right into Jim's mouth, watching the man spread his lips around the cold, hard barrel.  

"Right. So you're going to shoot yourself in the fa--"

Licking his lips - with the gun still half in his mouth - Jim moved it away to the side and let a smile twitch onto his face. "'There's not going to  _be_ any bullets in it, that's the point. He'll hear the bang and –" 

“—panic.”

Jim's hands went inside his pockets and pulled out the small bags of blood, all tied up and ready for use. He smiled weakly and took the gun back from Sebastian, setting the scene up by himself. He placed the gun down into his belt, right under his coat, pressed against his back so it was right out of Sebastian’s view – and therefore – Sherlock’s view. Tilting his head, Jim hid the small bags of blood right under his hair, using the hair gel that had already slicked his hair back to keep it in place. The bags managed to lay flat, form to Jim’s head and stay sturdy with the obscene amount of hair gel that was set in place, more so than usual, Sebastian would suspect.

“You're going to kill that planet with all that shite you put in your hair," The sniper teased weakly, crossing his arms. 

Jim only glared at him before he went back into his scene. He motioned for Sebastian to come closer, and then took his hand, staring at him right in the eyes. Sebastian could tell instantly that Jim wasn't seeing him – but instead – Sherlock Holmes. The man in the funny hat was looking down at Jim, trying to figure it out his psyche and plan. Before Sebastian could even process what Jim was going to do, he spoke, his words humble and soft. There was a sense of desperation in his voice that almost worried Sebastian and for a split second, part of him thought that this could have been all real. Jim might have wanted to do this.

 _"Thank you."_  

It was the second crack of the gun that seemed to pull Sebastian out of his trance. Within a moment's notice, the gun was out and Jim had fall down flat on the floor, blood coming out from the back of his head. His body was flat, still, and his eyes were wide open without an ounce of life in them. Just as quick as he had fallen, Jim was right back up on his feet again. "It'll be better, probably. When we’re actually  _doing_ it-"

"You used that phrase on purpose, didn’t you?" 

"When we’re actually  _doing_ it, I'll probably try to get something in my eyes to get them to stay open longer. Contact lenses, maybe. Something." Jim waved it off. 

"Alright, just because you managed to freak me out, doesn't mean that it will work on him. Do you really think  _Holmes_ is going to fall for that?" 

"Oh, Sebby..." Jim tsked as he walked closer to his sniper. The sight of the bloody pavement down below him, taking a small shape of Jim’s head, had managed to make himself smile. He was sure some of it must have been some of his own blood, but he’d worry about that later. He had hit his head, but a minor concussion would hardly get in the way. "You're inches away from a murderous psychopath with a gun that'll be terribly close to  _both_ of your faces, do you really think that you're going to be able to concentrate enough to notice whether or not I actually shoot myself in the face? I'm offering Sherlock an ultimatum. Either he kills himself, or I kill his friends. He's already going to be in a panic. Kill his only aid on the list, the  _only_ man that can call all my boys off, and you have a terrified little detective with a heart. He'll have no other choice but to throw himself off the roof."

Sebastian could only watch Jim as he spoke, thinking about it for a moment. In many ways, he could assume that Holmes must have cared as much about this John Watson bloke as Sebastian cared about Jim. He’d be willing to take a bullet for him if it meant saving his idiot’s life. Letting his tongue run across his lips, Sebastian took in a shaky breath and nodded, dragging a cigarette out from his pocket just to ease his tension. "If you manage to actually kill yourself, I swear to God, I'm placing your body in the most repulsive place you can think of." Sebastian was trying his best to be serious, but it was clear by the smile on his face that maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea. Underneath a thrift shop with cheap suits and awful colours, Tesco's, Asda... maybe right underneath a children's playground. Then again, the idea of annoying little brats running on top of Jim every day disgusted him as well.

"I'll haunt you for the rest of your goddamn life, wipe that smirk off your face!"

"That's kind of what I'm hoping for there, Jimmy."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Jim kept his eyes on Sebastian, doing nothing but _watching_ him, and Sebastian could sense something was wrong. He knew that something _could_ go wrong with this stupid stunt. Even if Jim hated it, he was preforming a magic trick, one that would risk his life, all just for Sherlock Holmes, because Jim wanted to keep playing their game.

Who’s the better genius?

Their lips crashed in an instant and soon enough, both of them caught within a violent and passionate embrace. Sebastian felt himself only fill up with fear in that moment. Jim wouldn’t be doing this unless he thought it’d be the last time. They only did this on dangerous missions. There were quick shags in hospitals; ones that would make Sebastian’s heart go wild, nearly going into bloody cardiac arrest because his boyfriend wanted to touch him ‘one last time.’ Swallowing hard, Sebastian pushed Jim away and made sure to look straight at him, locking their eyes together. 

“Listen to me you little shit. We’re not doing this. This– ‘shag before he dies’ thing, it’s not going to happen because you’re going to be just fine. Yeah? We’ve rehearsed this; it works! We’ll be fine.” Sebastian grabbed onto Jim’s face tightly and Sebastian could see nothing but anger. He was holding Jim back and he knew that the damn man hated that. Letting him go, Sebastian was met by a swift punch in the face.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

~ ~ ~

Those were Jim Moriarty’s final words to Sebastian Moran.

Sebastian watched the entire scene from the safety of another building; one that was far enough away from him so he wouldn’t be able to reach Jim in time, if anything went wrong. That’s what Sebastian hated the most, the fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop him once he was up there. The earpiece in Jim’s ear was turned off and all of Sebastian’s cries were left unheard to him. Everything just seemed like it was going so well. Sherlock Holmes had fallen for it; he had fallen into the trap. At least that’s what Sebastian thought.

The moment he watched the body hit the floor in a giant crack, the sound of bones breaking and blood spilling right from his skull, Sebastian packed his things and made his way onto the roof of Saint Bart’s as soon as possible. They’ll be police up there investigating soon enough, wondering if Sherlock had left anything, if there were any clues or simply anything they needed to clean up.

It was Jim’s flat laying body that threw him off. He was still there, flat on his back with a grin right on his face. Clearing his throat, Sebastian glanced down onto the crowd, all of them surrounding Sherlock to race up to him. 

The bystander effect – the more bystanders in a crowd, the less likely it is that any one of them will help.

“He fucking faked his own suicide too. He faked it.” Sebastian took in another shaky breath as he rushed to Jim, shaking him awake, weakly slapping his face. “Jim? Jim, come on, you can hear me. We have to get out of here.” There wasn’t a single movement from Jim. He lay there; just staring back at Sebastian with his hollow, empty eyes. 

“Alright, come on now, very funny. You hold the world record for not blinking, let’s _go._ ”

Sirens started to fill the world around them. There were nothing but sirens from the hospital down below, and in that moment, Sebastian thought about jumping himself.

With a deep breath, he heaved up Jim’s limp, cold body onto his shoulder and carried him down into the hospital. He didn’t bother to check the wound. He knew he couldn’t bear to check it, see the bullet that broke through Jim’s skull and crash into his brain. He didn’t _want_ to see it and he was going to if he didn’t need to. Instead, Sebastian cleared his throat and pulled out a body bag, carrying Jim out in it with ease. The distraction was set in place; no one even paid attention to him.

He placed Jim in the back of the car and drove them both back to the flat, speaking as if Jim was still there. As if his lover could hear him.

Sebastian Moran laid Jim to rest in his best clothes, in the room where he belonged. Choking through his tears, Sebastian moved his fingers gingerly to shut his eyes, and peacefully laid him to rest. That was it, then. The end of their era. Naturally, this was what Jim wanted, so it was what he was going to get.

 

It was only after the front door shut – only after Sebastian had gone through a complete bottle of liquor and left in stumble – did Jim’s little potassium cyanide pill wore off that his eyes flew open, and his heart began to beat again.

 

 


End file.
